Chapters (43)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Contents
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Postscript
- Also by Rhys Bowen
- About the Author
- Copyright
“He sent a postcard to one of them two days before he died.”
“And this postcard had some kind of warning written on it? Something that made you uneasy?”
I considered this. “Well, no. Not exactly.”
He took my hand and patted it. “Then I think you have no cause for concern, chère madame. There were no extra bodies found. No signs of a struggle elsewhere in the apartment. And American ladies are known for flitting across the Continent on a whim. They’ll turn up again, I’m quite sure.”
“Thank you.”
The inspector opened the front door for me. “I wish you a pleasant stay in Paris, madame. However, if you can think of anything to do with Bryce’s family in America that might have a bearing on this case, you can always leave a message for me at the Sûreté.”
The policeman at the door nodded to me as I passed him and walked down the steps, out to the street. I gave a sigh of relief. Sid and Gus’s disappearance seemed to have nothing to do with the death of Reynold Bryce. Perhaps they had already returned home and be waiting for me. I hurried to the nearest Métro station.
Chapter 16
Sixteen
When I reached the bakery I found Liam had already been fed and was sleeping peacefully. I apologized but Madeleine laughed. “I am here at home with one baby, madame. What difference does another one make? And your son, he is delightful. He has so much joie de vivre.”
“Yes,” I said. “He is a lot like his father.” And a great longing for Daniel came over me. When could I hope for a letter? Was he still safe? I wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around me.
When I entered the front hallway of Sid and Gus’s building the concierge popped out like a spider springing from its lair on passing prey. “So you’re still here. And no, your friends have not returned. Me, I think they have found a place they like better. In a more chic neightborhood.”
“But they were expecting me here,” I said. “And why would they leave their possessions behind?”
“Americans have money. They buy new possessions and toss out the old,” she said. “Or they plan to collect their things before the end of the month.”